Guilty Pleasure
by Pesky Ixy Pesternomi
Summary: I wrote this on a tangent and it turned into something that I love dearly. It's written in three parts and that will be all. It's really all this story needs to be honest. I hope you all enjoy.
1. Protecting Hermione

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**A/N: Sometimes I just imagine scenes that I could see happening between Draco & Hermione, and this is one of them. Enjoy.**

****Edit: Oh my goodness, I never expected that big of a response from this the first day it was posted. Thank you all so very much for your reviews, and while I can't promise you this will be turned into a full length anytime soon, I most definitely have big plans for it. But if you really did like it, I do have another Dramione that I think you might enjoy, it's at about 20,000 something words now and it will most definitely be very lengthy. It's call Pieces and I hope you'll all read and review it before I get too far ahead of you :)

**Oh yeah, I unfortunately own nothing.**

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He had know the argument was coming before he'd even fully decided he wanted to know what it would be like to be with her. He knew he was foolish to have even thought of _them _as a possibility. Unfortunately, he also knew that he would be driven mad if he didn't at least have a taste of her. So he acted upon his impulses, something extremely unbecoming of a Malfoy. His family was not know for being _emotional_. They were known for being calm, and in control. Draco was most definitely not in control, though he tried his best to make her think he was. If he hadn't been so foolish as to think he could toy with her for a bit, and then just leave, then he wouldn't have gone and done the worst thing he could ever expect from their relationship, he wouldn't have gone and fallen in love. But he had, and it was for that very reason that his resolve almost wavered when he ushered her into his flat, already knowing what was happening. Almost.

"What the bloody hell are you thinking?" She asked, waving his letter in front of his face. Hermione never swore. "What possessed you to write this to me?" She asked him, her hands shaking slightly. He could almost smell the tears that she was fighting to hold back.

"You knew this was coming Hermione." He replied solemnly, not daring to look her in the eye. If he did that, he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with this.

"The _fuck_ I knew this was coming Draco, I thought you were different now, I thought you had changed. After everything we've been through together in the past few months, this is how you're going to treat me? _I thought you loved me._" Draco flinched. "Apparently I was wrong though. All those things you told me, about how remorseful you are for your actions during the war, and how you want nothing more than to be a better man, that was all bullshit? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Don't you dare question my intentions as far as _that_is concerned Hermione, don't you dare even go there. I'm not a fucking liar and you know it." Except he was. "You didn't see half the things I did, you weren't the one who witnessed Muggle killings at breakfast, so don't you dare fucking tell me what I do and do not regret. Nothing I told you was a lie, and neither is this. _We cannot be together._" Hermione sucked in a breath of air. Draco saw her chew on her lip and knew she was trying not to cry, he knew all of her little habits, and it only made this so much harder.

"How do you expect me to believe you when you say that Draco?" She whispered. "You told me I made you better, you told me you wanted to spend your life with me. And now you're telling me it all meant nothing to you? You're telling me that after everything I've done for you, _accepting_ that you've changed, _defending _you to my best fucking friends, I meant nothing to you?" Draco closed his eyes and leaned against the kitchen counter. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes and sighed.

"Hermione, don't make this harder than it already is. It's a complicated situation, I know. I never should have pursued you. I've always known this couldn't happen." He told her softly.

"Then why did you Draco? Why the fucking hell would you do this to me? To yourself?" She asked angrily. "Was this just some big game to you?"

"_I don't know_ Hermione, I can't explain it, I just knew I wanted to have you, so I made it happen." He told her.

"So that's it then? You've had your fill of me and now you're bored?" Her voice reached an unheard of octave.

"No you stupid woman, I'm not _bored_." He glared at her, raising his voice. "Do you really think me that uncivilized?"

"You certainly are acting like it." She glared back. "If it isn't boredom then what is it Draco? Are you ashamed of me?"

"For somebody so bloody brilliant you sure are an idiot." He muttered.

"_Tell me why!"_ Hermione yelled in his face. "I deserve at least that much."

"Because Hermione, it can't happen! It just can't!" He yelled back, stopping himself from grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "My father knows, okay? He found out about you and if I don't end it with you right now he'll kill you, or have somebody else do it. Do you think I want you dead?" He asked, crazed.

"Don't be irrational Draco, he wouldn't kill me." Hermione growled.

"The fuck he wouldn't, you wouldn't be the first person he's killed and you know it!"

Hermione just shook her head, refusing to listen to him. Draco heard his heart thudding dreadfully in his chest as he realized what he was going to have to do. Hermione was too damn stubborn to let him leave her for her own protection. The only way he could make sure she was safe was hurting her, badly. Enough so that she wouldn't even want to be with him anymore.

"You're not good enough for me Hermione." He told her coldly. "There's a reason we were on separate sides of the war. Just because I'm remorseful of my actions during the war, and I've grown fond of you doesn't change that. It doesn't change our views at all. I can't marry you, I can't give you a life, I can't have children with you. It isn't going to happen. You can't be anything more than a guilty pleasure to me."

"Why the fuck not? It's what I want." Hermione retorted shrilly.

"_IT'S NOT WHAT I WANT." _He yelled. He felt his heart shatter as her tears finally spilled over. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into a hug and kiss her tears away. To tell her he didn't mean any of it and that they'd think of something, together. But he knew that wasn't an option. Lucius would find them, no matter where they went.

"I can't be with you, because I'm a Malfoy and that just isn't how things are done. You can't have my children and you're too proud to be kept as a mistress, so this ends now." He spoke harshly, wishing he could just die. "Regardless of how we feel about each other, nothing is going to change the fact that you're nothing but a _mudblood._" He spit the last word out, hating it, hating that he had to say that word. He knew she'd take his hatred differently, she allowed herself to be blinded by her anguish.

Hermione just stared at him for a minute, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were falling freely down her face. He'd never seen her look so dejected, the little makeup that she wore was smudged all under her eyes, her hair was a crazy mess, reminiscent of their Hogwarts days, and she had red rings around her eyes. She sweater was disheveled as if she'd had her knees curled up under it and stretched it out, and she was still clutching that blasted letter he'd left on her pillow.

"You really mean that?" She whispered, all the hatred gone from her voice.

"I do." He whispered back. She nodded, and finally wiped the tears from her face, trying her hardest to get herself under control. He saw a hint of resolve in her eyes, and was silently thankful of his triumph. At least she would be safer now.

"Well then." She said, laying the note down on his kitchen counter. And then, before Draco even saw it coming, she had pulled her hand back before slapping him across the face with all her might. She almost smirked at the satisfying sound it made, and watched as he jumped and clutched a hand to his face, where a bright red mark was already forming. It was going to leave a bruise. Good.

She expected him to get angry. She expected him to yell at her, curse her, anything. She expected him to push her up against a wall and scream in her face, before claiming her mouth with his, and making love to her in apology, as he had after so many arguments before. She expected anything from him, any hint of the fire and passion she knew was a part of him. What she didn't expect is what he said next.

"I deserved that."

They were silent for a moment and then he sighed as he looked anywhere but at her.

"Hermione, I think you should go now."

"You're sure?" She asked, clinging to her last little bit of hope for all it was worth. He closed his eyes as swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Just go."

So she did.

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**A/N: This is probably going to be written into one of the novel-length Dramione's I have floating around in my head, but I just really needed to write it down now, I hope you all enjoy. Review foo'**


	2. Malfoy Blood

**A/N: Okay, I'm still struggling with this story because I at first wanted to turn it into a full length fic. It won't be written in exact into anything I'm currently working on, but writing this does help me to gather my thoughts and some ideas, so I give you the second part, to what I think I may turn into a three to five part short story for you all. This is an extremely dark chapter, which I wrote because I'm toying with ideas for a darker fic right now, and writing this chapter I think helped me to get into a 'dark draco' mood. I still don't know how long this will be, but I assure you, I will add at least one more installment to this, just because I have a fear of even numbers. I hope you all enjoy this and it isn't a completely unexpected turn of events after the first installment of "Guilty Pleasure."**

**I would also like to thank everyone who reviewed the first, and let you all know that I really was not intending to add on to this here, but perhaps work a scene similar to the first installment into something else, but when I started writing this second installment, I got carried away, but I really did enjoy this, as I hope you all do.**

**I don't own anything.**

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He regretted doing it the moment she left, but he knew it was for the best. He shouldn't have let himself get carried away with her, they were an extremely unlikely match, regardless of how they felt about one another. Their school relationship stood to justify that thought. He was dark and cold, whereas she brought light to any room she was in, and had the warmest personality of anyone he had ever known. He was calculated and predictable, whereas she loved to do things spontaneously, and always kept him guessing. He had a hard time expressing himself, whereas she allowed herself to be ruled by her emotions, sometimes acting far too quickly for her sharp reasoning to stop her. He loved her, he was sure of it. She brought out the very best in him, and truly made him want to be a better person. She ignited a flame within him that he hadn't known was there, and their love was one of passion. He knew within his heart that he would give anything to grow old with her, loving her, cherishing her, he had so many ideas in his head. Visions of her in a white dress, looking beautiful as he smiled upon her. Her, round with his child, the happy glow of motherhood highlighting her features. Her, with their newborn child in her arms, a thin layer of sweat upon her brow having just given birth, and looking all the more beautiful for it. He had never thought of himself as a husband, or a father, but she made him want to be those things, and so much more. He'd give anything to make those dreams a reality, but he knew if they were to happen, her life would be at risk every step of the way, possibly his own as well. So he had turned her out, in a desperate attempt to keep her safe.

Maybe Weasley would take care of her for him, Draco knew the other man had never really gotten over his own feelings for Hermione, or her decision to be with Draco. Yes, that would be for the best, Weasley would comfort her with open arms, because he could when Draco couldn't. She might even be happy with him, maybe she would one day be round with his child. The thought struck a cord in Draco's heart, and he felt a pain than ran much deeper than mere jealousy. It was a lonely, lovesick ache, knowing you can't be with the one you love, because you aren't good for them. It was even worse, knowing that there was somebody better for them.

In that moment, when Draco realized that what he was thinking had to be true, he had never felt so alone. He had never felt so ashamed of being who he was. Curse Lucius. Curse his idealistic pure blooded principles. Curse his savage nature, and desire to harm anyone who spoke against him. Curse the Malfoy family. Draco wished he had never been born a Malfoy, in that moment he wanted nothing more than to have been born into the family he had been raised to think the most poorly of. Draco wished he was Weasley. He wished he could be the one to comfort Hermione in that moment, the one she would turn to, and let help her. He wished more than anything that he could just pack his bags, and that he and Hermione could run away together, disappear. They could apparate all across the country side, being sure to lose anyone Lucius may have had tailing them. They'd be careful to only use necessary magic, and escape to someplace nice where they could build a home together, just the two of them. They could live as muggles for all he cared, he was willing to throw everything he had ever known or believed in out the window for this girl. For the passionate romance that they shared. Draco realized then that he truly had changed, permanently, and after what he had said to her that morning, it was probably too late.

What he would give to just be able to kill Lucius in that moment. He'd do it with his bare hands, and permanently remove the threat hanging over their heads. He'd be forever free to do as he pleased, and he'd never have to worry about her safety. As he imagined all the ways he could kill his father, he almost laughed at the irony of it all. He didn't even feel ashamed for the thoughts he was having, he felt no disgust at the idea of soiling his own hands with his fathers blood. Up until that moment, Draco had never had the mental fortitude to become a murderer. Lucius had tried so very hard to turn Draco into one, too. Numerous times during the war, Draco had been tortured for his inability to kill. And now, now that the war was over, and Voldemort gone, now that Draco knew he would never be asked to kill again, Lucius had finally succeeded in breaking Draco enough that he knew he'd be capable of murder. Murdering the very man who had tried endlessly to push him to that point. Draco felt crazed, and sick to his stomach, of all the things Lucius had ever done to him, threatening Hermione beat all. The very idea of Lucius's thin white fingers coming within close range of a single hair on Hermione's head filled Draco with an anger that he could not suppress.

He felt something wet upon his fingertips, and looking down at his hands, realized he had been clenching his fists so hard, that his nails had drawn blood from his palms. He held his hands in front of him, staring at the bright red stains, watching a trail of blood run down his wrist. Lucius's blood. How could his own father do this to him? How could he go as far as to push his own son, his own flesh and blood, to the point that he was contemplating murder? Draco felt disgusted to have ever called Lucius father. As Draco continued to watch his own blood drip onto his kitchen counter, he came to a decision. There was nothing else for it than to have Lucius permanently removed from the equation. Then, and only then, would Draco feel at ease, knowing Hermione would be safe. Draco's eyes widened at his realization, and he reacted almost immediately.

Not bothering to clean the blood from the counter or his hands, Draco rushed to his bedroom. He donned his thick black traveling cloak and pocketed his wand. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, pumping Malfoy blood through his veins. He knew that with every heartbeat, his palms bled further, but he didn't care. He left his apartment, not even bothering to turn off any lights or secure the door. What did it matter? He may not even return. He was going to Malfoy Manor, he was going to confront his father, and he had decided that on that night, either Lucius would be killed, or he would. He felt not an ounce of dread in his heart. What did he have to be fearful of? He didn't care if he was to die. What was a life without Hermione anyways? He knew he should have been fearful, his father had murdered many before, without so much as blinking an eye. Draco had never been able to do so, but he knew he could. He knew he would take pleasure in murdering Lucius even, he'd do it the muggle way, just for the gratification of being able to wrap his hands around Lucius's throat and strangle the life out of him. He knew he was capable of it, as angry as he was. He was a Malfoy after all, the capacity to murder was in his veins. If all went well tonight though, he hoped that he would be the last Malfoy to ever commit such a horrendous act. If all went well, he would find Hermione in the morning, together they would work out a way for Draco to escape prison, no matter if they had to lie about Lucius' disappearance, or built a court case for him. Assuming Hermione would still have him that was. What would she think of him? Knowing he had killed his own father?

Draco turned on the spot and apparated to Malfoy Manor's front gates.

It didn't matter anymore. If Hermione turned him away, he'd pursue her regardless. Begging her to realize he had done it for them. And if he knew he could not convince her, he'd just kill himself, rather than live without her. One death would already be on his hands, what would another be? He listened to his blood rushing in his ears as he walked along the pathway towards his childhood home. The sky was dark overhead, and Draco could smell the coming rain. It would be a thunderstorm tonight. Good. Perhaps Draco could commit the act without anyone else who may be in the Manor hearing.

He silently slipped through a back door, and made his way through the darkened halls. The Manor was quiet, it had been since the end of the war. It was far too big of a home for just Lucius and Narcissa. Draco hated this place. It had seen so many horrible things. It had sheltered so many Death Eaters during the war, and the Dark Lord himself. Possibly hundreds of murders had taken place deep within the confides of the Manor's dungeon rooms. Draco braced himself, latching on the the thought that this would be the last murder to ever take place in Malfoy Manor, as he neared his fathers study, where he knew the man would be. He pulled his wand out, and held it beside of him, battle ready. He wondered if a Malfoy son had ever killed his own father before. It was exceedingly likely. Taking a last jagged breath, he pushed the door to his fathers study open without warning, and drank in the sight of Lucius, sitting in the darkened room at his desk, no light except for that of a few lit candles in the room. Lucius looked up startled at the intrusion, and eyed the wand at Draco's side.

"What is it boy? What are you doing here?" He asked harshly. Draco swallowed the bile rising in his throat, at the thought that _this_ man, this creature, truly was his father. He raised his wand and licked his lips. He knew he must look positively mad, but he didn't care. Perhaps his crazed appearence would frighten Lucius even.

"Hello Father. I've come to kill you."

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**A/N: Okay so... do I do a good Dark Draco?**


	3. The End of Fear

**A/N: Here it is, the third and final installment of this short story. I hope you enjoy the outcome. I know this has been a bit morbid but...**

**I don't own anything.**

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She stared at the gravestone. At the words etched into the marble, and the white flowers, on the ground in front of it. Narcissus flowers, charmed to never wilt, very fitting for a Malfoy's headstone. Letting the meaning of it soak into her very skin. His death had turned her world upside down. The Ministry had of course gotten involved and there had been many who would have happily locked his killer away in Azkaban for the rest of his life. It was the perfect opportunity for Wizarding London to finally be rid of all Malfoy men, once and for all. It was debated heavily in the Wizengamot for 8 months.

Those 8 months had been absolutely horrible for her. She had cried endlessly, not knowing how to react. She knew their duel had been due to her, and for that she felt an unheard of amount of remorse. She had cursed herself for ever getting involved with Draco, that 8 month long nightmare would have never happened. She never would have felt the stress of waiting to know the verdict. Waiting to know if he would walk free or not. She had nightmares about it. She feared for herself more than anything. The outcome of that trial could mean many different things for her. It could mean the difference in a peaceful life, and being haunted. Eventually he had walked free. They called it self defense.

She continued to study the gravestone, as she sat upon the ground in front of it, picking at the slightly wilted grass. The air was getting cooler by the day. It would be Christmas before she knew it. It seemed like forever ago that he had died. She lived a happy life now, it had taken a while for things to return to any sort of normal for her, but eventually it had, and for that she was grateful.

"Mummy!" Hermione turned her head, and smiled at the sight of her husband, holding the hand of their daughter. The little four year old was Hermione in miniature, from her bright brown eyes to her curly brown hair. She let go of her father's hand and ran across the graveyard to her mother, being careful not to disturb any of the graves.

"I laid the flowers out, Mummy." Sophia Rose told her softly. "They look very beautiful."

"I'm sure they do dear. Grandmother is most likely very happy that you gave her flowers." Hermione told her daughter softly.

"Is Grandmother in heaven?" Sophia asked softly.

"Yes, Sophia. Your Grandmother is most definitely in heaven." Hermione smiled at the girl. Her grandmother's death was still a fresh wound, but Hermione was glad that Sophia was old enough to still hold on to some memories of her paternal grandmother. Hermione looked around the graveyard again, there were centuries upon centuries of purebloods laid to rest here. It was an old wizarding graveyard, many of the oldest families were all lain to rest here. The Weasleys, the Malfoys, the Blacks, the Prewetts, the Zabinis, the Notts, they all had lain family members to rest in this place, among many other families. It was a beautiful cemetary, in a rather eerie sort of way. All of the headstones were well taken care of, the flowers here never wilted. The walkways were lined with white stones, and there were white marble benches scattered throughout the place. Every time Hermione had been to this graveyard, she had been filled with an eerie sort of calm. She had come many times to look at his headstone, to read the words etched upon it, just to remind herself it wasn't a dream. She felt as if doing so made her appreciate what she now had. Sophia tugged on her mother's hand, hoping to drag her towards her father. Hermione smiled at her daughter and stood, brushing the creases out of her skirt before standing. She knew her husband understood why she always came to visit his final resting place. She turned to look at the words upon the headstone one last time.

_Here Lies Lucius Hyperion Malfoy_

_"Death, is the end of Fear."_

She had hated the inscription at first, she felt as if Draco had chosen it to mock the man. He probably had, but Hermione knew the words to be true. She hadn't feared for her life a single day since the man's death. The only hurtle left after that was keeping Draco out of prison. She had been so scared that she would be left all alone regardless, but after those 8 months of heavy debating, Draco's memories had shown that Lucius had died in a moment of self defense. Draco had gone to the Manor with every intention to kill him that night, but couldn't bring himself to murder his own father when it was all said and done.

Lucius had been outraged though, he had come at Draco furious, brandishing a knife that he kept hidden in the desk drawer of his study, Draco had struggled to defend himself when Lucius disarmed him, and in the end of their scuttle, Lucius had fallen upon his own weapon, not at quick as he had been in his younger days. The knife had entered a spot inches above his heart, puncturing a lung, no amount of magic could have saved him. Hermione was secretly glad. Hermione stood and followed Sophia to the spot where Draco was standing, smiling at her sadly.

"It's been over six years." He said. "Do you think mother would have rather been lain to rest next to her husband?"

"No, I don't." Hermione supplied simply, gazing in the direction of Narcissa's grave, surrounded by other members of the Black family. "I think Narcissa would have been glad to know she was lain in a place that will eventually be close to Andromeda." She smiled, thinking of her husband's mother. After Lucius's death, Narcissa had welcomed Hermione to the family with open arms. Anyone good enough for Draco was good enough for her. She had rebuilt a relationship with her sister Andromeda during the last two years of her life, they were the only two Black's left of their generation, and nobody was around anymore to discourage the two sisters from reuniting.

Draco picked Sophia up and she laid her head on his shoulder, it had been a tiring day and her little eyes were fluttering as she fought to stay awake. He smiled at Hermione and held out his free hand to her to hold as they walked out of the graveyard, he was just as in love with her as he had been 6 years ago, and they had a beautiful daughter to show for their love. But that wasn't all, they had the rest of their lives to spend together, with nothing else around to threaten their happiness. Draco stopped walking and pulled her to him, Sophia curled up between them as he bent his neck to put his forehead to hers.

"I will love you for the rest of my days, Hermione Malfoy, I promise you that." He told her sweetly, before placing a kiss on her forehead and continuing their departure.

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**A/N: So? :)**


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